


Heaven Sent

by loveandwarandmagick



Series: summertime shenanigans [3]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, Graduation, House Party, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, POV Simon Snow, Religious Guilt, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, ditching said house party, no magic, simon's oblivious though shh don't tell him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwarandmagick/pseuds/loveandwarandmagick
Summary: “They’re all no-good. Troublemakers, the lot of them. His mother, bless her soul, might have raised him different. But it’s Fiona, so he’s probably no better than them.”Ebb has bad blood with the Pitch family, and Simon wants to stay as far from trouble as he can. Too bad that trouble is hell-bent on getting his attention, and even worse is that he's so tempting.(or, self-indulgent catholic guilt set to 'oh god' by orla gartland & 'only the good die young' by billy joel & 'take me to church' by hozier )
Relationships: Ebeneza "Ebb" Petty/Fiona Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: summertime shenanigans [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807300
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	1. the stained-glass curtain you’re hiding behind never lets in the sun

**Author's Note:**

> hello carry on fans, i am back !!
> 
> apologies for abandoning this pair, but i've been fawning over andreil for the longest time aksdjla
> 
> school starts very soon and i'll be busy with that, so i'll do my best to keep up with writing as i juggle my fluctuating mental health and school stress :)

From the moment Simon wakes up, it is decidedly, a very bad morning. 

It starts with the fact that he’s late, an undeniable fact given how bright the sunlight is through his curtains. It’s nice to wake up to on weekends, when the smell of pancakes is wafting through the house and Ebb is humming some sad love song, but not so much on a school morning. 

And on the last day, too. He grumbles as he sits up, running a hand through his sweat damp hair and cursing another night of nightmares, before he stands to go shower. If he’s already late, he might as well commit to it. The smell of burnt coffee meets him when he passes the kitchen on his way to the bathroom and he winces, trying to catch a hint of breakfast anywhere under it. 

Ebb’s voice floats down the hall, soft and melancholy. Sometimes he sits with her, listening to her singing, as a reminder that she’s not alone anymore. Today, he has no time. After a quick shower, he dresses in his uniform, reclasping his necklace and shaking out his damp hair by the open window.

He bounds through to the kitchen, smiling brightly to counter the brief ache in his chest when he catches sight of her teary face. 

“Heya dear, there’s breakfast in the oven. I’m going to go wash up,” she sniffs. Right before she disappears into her room, she turns over to look at him with a small quirk in her lips. “You have five minutes. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re late.”

She steps out, leaving Simon to dig out the cinnamon rolls she baked. He gets through two and stuffs half of the third one in his mouth as she comes out, exactly five minutes later. She looks over at the half full baking dish, scooping out the rest and shoving them in a plastic bag. In thin, slanted letters, she writes  _ Penelope _ , and then draws a heart next to the  _ e _ .

Satisfied, she caps the pen and tosses it back in the junk drawer, handing the bag over to him. 

His bad mood dissipates under the satisfaction of a full stomach and the sound of Ebb’s voice as she grabs her car keys, sharp edges softening almost instantly. 

“Want me to drop you off around the back, so you can be on time?”

He nods, looking out the window at the dreary sky and wondering when it got so overcast.

“Is it supposed to rain today?” He asks absently, fiddling with his necklace, bringing the tip of the cross to his mouth to chew on the end.

Ebb hums, which means yes, though she doesn’t elaborate. Simon sighs and lets the necklace fall from his mouth, pressing his thumb into the edge of the metal until it starts to bite into his skin. She makes quick work of getting there, pulling up alongside the curb and out of the way of traffic.

“See you later, Si.”

“Bye, mum.” 

Her face lights up at the word, always calmly pleased at how comfortable he’s gotten. He returns her smile as he steps out and gives her a wave, shutting the door just as she pulls away. With a sigh, he starts for the entrance, swinging his bag forward onto one shoulder. The doors open with a hiss and he breathes in deep, relishing in the cool air.

Ebb rarely turns on the cool air when they’re at home, opting to open the windows and let the lukewarm air in instead. Simon’s endlessly grateful for the school’s dedication to making the buildings as cold as possible. 

A voice breaks the silence of the empty hall.“Late?”

He grins, turning to face Penny, who’s hiding in the alcove behind him. She bounds out with a smile, passing Simon a cup of hot tea. He trades her the bag of cinnamon rolls, grinning at the way her face lights up at the sight.

“Are you busy this weekend?” She asks, and her expression instantly disperses Simon’s own. Her eyes hold a scary intense energy that Simon hasn’t seen since he stayed at her house all night to study and she didn’t sleep, using excessive amounts of coffee to fuel herself. The memory still makes him shiver.

“Should I... want to be?” He asks cautiously, still holding onto a fragment of his smile, though he fears it looks worried, so he turns away from her probing gaze. She takes a bite of the cinnamon roll and swallows fast before she loops her arm through Simon’s.

“Walk and talk,” she says, “You’re late.”

Simon huffs and mumbles back, “So are you,” but his words go ignored. 

They ease down the hall slowly, Penny tearing pieces of her breakfast up before she puts them in her mouth, and Simon taking hesitant sips of his scalding tea. Her grip tightens around his arm, and he casts his gaze downward questioningly. 

“How do you think Ebb would feel about a sleepover?” She grins, and he instantly feels his restless anxiety melt away at the proposal.

“She loves you, Pen. Of course I can.” He wonders why she’s been so weird about asking, until her grin widens into something more pleading, eyebrows slanting upwards instead of their normal furrowed state. 

Already, her wide-eyed, anticipatory grin catches, and he can’t help the excitement that bubbles up alongside his nervousness. 

“Not at my place. But hear me out, first.”   
  
Simon stills, nodding in agreement. It’s a phrase of mutual understanding - if one of them says it, the other is obliged to listen. He’s been thankful for it, even though Penny’s patience is fraying with each time he uses it to complain about homework or Baz. 

“So, we’re graduating,” she starts, which is a hell of an opener. The excitement of the upcoming summer ignites Simon’s blood, promises of time spent at the beach or camping out at Penny’s for whole weeks. It’s also working to sell her point, which he can see in the way her eyes flash with intention. 

“Yes, we are,” he responds, glancing at the class just at the edge of the hall. If he strains, he can see Professor Porter giving his customary last day speech, preparing them for graduation the next day. It’s something Simon’s heard before anyway, from both Penny and her older brother. 

“So… it’s only right that we do something to celebrate. Right?”

Her tone is placating, still more urgent than pleading, and it’s setting Simon on the edge of excitement. “Uh huh?”

“So. There’s a class party at one of the mansions on Goldford street. You know, the one we drove by last June.”  Simon _does_ know, so he nods. But there’s only three people in school that live down that street, and imagining which one it might be makes him worried. 

“Penny, I don’t know-”

“It’s not that one guy who gave you trouble last year,” she assures quickly, hands coming up in surrender. “But… well it’s Dev.”

“Oh,” he smiles cheerily, untangling himself from her. “In that case, no. Absolutely not.”

“Simon, you  _ said  _ you’d hear me out-”

“And I  _ did _ . And you know Ebb would  _ never  _ let me near there. What if Baz goes? They’re cousins, Pen.”

Penny frowns at that, but her recovery is efficient. “She says to stay away from  _ Pitches _ . Dev’s a Grimm.” Her face is softened by pleading and she leans into Simon’s side. “ _ Please  _ ? If Baz does go, you can avoid him. Just like school. And, even  _ better _ , I’ll ask if he’s going.”

“He doesn’t  _ like _ you, Pen.”

She waves a hand dismissively, and Simon can’t help but wince. She says, “He doesn’t like anyone. He’ll still talk to me.”

“So I really get no choice in this matter?” he mutters, looking away from her probing stare. 

“You do,” she replies calmly, which is Simon’s cue to look back at her. She’s softened by consideration, and he’s thankful for the fact that at least her excitement doesn’t blind her to his feelings. “It’d just be fun, I think. The last thing we get to do before we grow up properly and stuff, you know?”

He nods silently, contemplating. Penny busies herself with pulling another cinnamon roll from her bag, so Simon takes the time to watch her, catching the restless tug of her fingers. She  _ is  _ genuinely excited for the possibility, and the last thing Simon wants is to disappoint her.

“Alright,” he says finally, and he basks in her radiant joy, poorly concealed through pursed lips. She tries to narrow her eyes to lessen it, but the end result is a watery, bright smile. 

“Great. It’s after graduation tomorrow. We’ll talk to Ebb and Mum, and I’ll see if Premal will lend me his car.”

Simon snorts. “I wouldn’t. You only just managed to convince me to go, your persuasion skills do  _ not _ extend to convince Premal.”

She laughs as she walks away, Simon waving like mad as he pulls open the classroom door right when the bell rings. With a grimace, he makes his way to his desk, picking up all the papers that litter it. Registration forms for next year, a graduation survey, and a final grade report for the year. He stuffs it all in his bag and joins the flood of students leaving, waving goodbye at the professor as he stands to the side with a small, awkward smile on his face. 

The day passes relatively quietly, with the same customary announcements and concerns about graduation being made in each class. By the time he catches up to walk Penny home, his brain feels fuzzy, a side effect of listening to the repeated drivel for nearly a week of graduation preparations.

At least Penny is more vibrant, talking through all the silence. She’s been ecstatic since finals ended, ready to graduate and start interning with her dad through Uni. 

“Okay. My house first. Can I spend the night at yours though? Mum’s going mental about graduation and Premal won’t stop trying to give me advice about the way to walk.”

He nods absently, though she’s busy staring down at one of the papers they were given, memorizing details to recite to her Mum before she asks to spend the night. 

He watches out for cars, steering her left and right through the hordes of people leaving from the student car lot. Just before they hit the sidewalk, a flash of motion cuts them off, and Simon has to throw his weight into her shoulder to stop her before they’re hit. 

When Simon’s vision adjusts, Baz is sitting there on his motorcycle, looking all too pleased. A cigarette dangles from his lips, and Penny wrinkles her nose without even looking up from the paper.    
“Basil.” Her mouth curves coolly around his name, and Simon hides his proud smirk in his palm. “Smoking is poisonous and you’re not even allowed to do it on school grounds.” 

She steps around him, looking at Simon to follow. He does, staring her down and trying to deduce whether or not she’s asked him about the party yet (and pointedly ignoring the way Baz’s gaze sticks to them.) She just looks between them absently, and Simon tries his best to communicate his silent question in just a stare.

_ "Oh _ ,” she mouths finally, turning to Baz and handing Simon her papers. He busies himself immediately, eyes scanning the pages but not absorbing anything. 

“So Basil,” he hears her say. “Any plans this weekend?”

Baz’s voice floats over easily despite the rumble of his bike, smooth and rolling with satisfaction. Even with the bloody cigarette between his teeth, his enunciation is nearly perfect.

“You are aware that we’re graduating? We all have the same plans tomorrow, Bunce.”

Simon looks up just in time to catch Penny’s eye roll, though it’s accompanied by a sharp grin, taking his sarcasm in stride. She’s always liked his wit, even though it comes with a lethal amount of sarcasm. He must know she’s playing stupid then - Penny matches him for common sense and book smarts. 

“After grad. No parties to be thrown?”

Simon’s gaze shifts to Baz, who’s looking right at him already with a raised eyebrow. He lifts his chin sharply in something like a nod, like he’s asking a question, and Simon looks away.

“No,” he says slowly, eyes still burning in Simon’s direction. “No party.”

“Right then,” she grins, moving around the grumbling motorcycle and relinking herself with Simon. “See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately,” Baz replies, gaze curious and focused. Simon gulps and doesn’t miss the way his eyes flash back to track the movement of his throat, before they trail up and meet Simon’s own. 

He sits up straighter then, wrapping his bag around his shoulder twice to keep it from flying off. Then, he brings his heel up and stubs his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot, flicking it in a random direction before he speeds out of the way. Simon mutters under his breath and Penny makes a noise of disgust before they set off too, trying to move around the cloud of foul smelling smoke left by the bike.

“You know,” Penny starts as she swings their hands together, “he shouldn’t be allowed to have one of those on campus. I bet he doesn’t even have a permit.”

Simon only nods, overwhelmed with silent relief that he’ll be able to go to the party tomorrow without having to duck Baz all night. Penny sinks into his ease, taking Simon’s silence as a cue to discuss tomorrow’s woes and her family’s fussing. 

“And I’m perfectly capable of picking my own clothing. A skirt is basically a dress, I don’t see why he’d be so against it. He and Mum have been butting heads over it all week.”

“You think he really didn’t know Dev was having a party?” Simon mumbles.

Penny turns to look at him, a question in her eyes. “They’re not really close,” she shrugs, staring for a moment longer before she turns away.

Simon is appeased, but his thoughts still careen outwards, imagining how disastrous it’d be if he ran into Baz at the party. He wonders if Baz would leave him alone, or keep staring at him from across rooms, the way he does in school. Standing off to one side, dressed in his all-black ensemble with a cigarette to rot his lungs.

Penny leads them inside and the wall of sudden noise that bursts through interrupts his wandering mind. Pans hissing on the stove and her sister, Priya, singing at the top of her lungs while her mother looks on tiredly. Premal typing rapidly on his laptop while Pacey chatters on, oblivious to his earphones. 

Penny rolls her eyes at the scene, locating her mother in the chaos easily and tapping her shoulder. Simon focuses his attention on the wall to distract from their discussion. Premal glances up for a moment, meeting Simon’s eyes to offer the tiniest smile. Priya, silenced and annoyed, shoots Penny a glare and moves into the sitting room. 

“So? I can go?”

“Simon’s going?” 

He tunes back in at the sound of his name to nod, flashing a small smile her way to watch her face soften. Penny’s mum has always had a soft spot for Simon, ready to offer a sweet or a hug, or just an ear to listen. She and Ebb get along well, too. 

Her lips purse as she considers this, looking between Penny and the clock on the stove. “If and only  _ if _ , you promise to stay with him all night, you can go. And stay. But you need to pack your clothes and pepper spray, and don’t forget your hair shirt, dear, your curls will be unmanageable tomorrow.”

Penny turns to Simon with a victorious grin, stepping forward into the waiting fold of her mum’s arms. He averts his eyes awkwardly, shifting his weight until she steps away. She raises her eyebrows at him with her arms still held open, so he steps forward hesitantly as she envelops him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, my boy. Take care of her,” she mumbles into his hair, huffing loudly at Penny’s groan. 

“Mum, it’s a  _ night _ .”

“A big one,” she argues, pulling back to pat Simon’s hair down and watch the two of them. “Just be careful.”

“Of course.” 

Penny grabs Simon’s wrist, tugging gently so he follows her to her room. As soon as she gets in, she starts rummaging through drawers. Simon sits on the edge of the bed, watching her go from drawer to closet, then back again with an armful of colorful clothes.

“Help,” she says, dumping the clothes on the bed in front of Simon. He roots through them carefully while she goes back to her drawers, grabbing bottles and scrunchies to toss on the counter. He wrinkles his nose at a few garish shirts, moving them out of the pile until he’s left with only a few. He does the same for the bottoms, tossing aside a pair of green leather trousers and a purple knee length skirt. 

“Seriously? Those trousers look amazing on me, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, Pen. But they’re  _ leather _ . You’ll hate me for letting you wear them when you’re uncomfortable later.”

All she says is, “ _ Hmph _ .”

Instead of arguing, he works on pairing outfits together out of the pile - one dark green sweater with a black miniskirt, another apple colored pair of trousers with a white, ruffled blouse. 

He frowns and abandons the combinations for Penny to sort through, shuffling over to the shoe rack by the closet. By the time he’s picked out a comfortable looking pair, Penny’s already grabbed an outfit Simon did  _ not _ pick out. 

He stares for a second. She returns his gaze fiercely. Finally, he huffs, “Penny, it’s  _ leather _ .”

She tips her chin up defiantly, smoothing the edges of the skirt down where it hangs. He sighs and tosses the shoes in her direction - heavy black wedge heels that go well with the deep red shirt she’s holding. “Come on, then. Pack your sleep stuff.”

The sun is already setting when they leave, Penny with her bags in tow, and Simon with a tin of biscuits and sweets. It doesn’t take long to get home from here, so they take their time strolling along the sidewalk, looking out for squirrels and familiar passing cars. 

“Are you sure you want to go tomorrow?” Penny asks after a silent moment. Simon looks down at her hands, only now noticing the tight twist of her fingers. It makes his heart squeeze painfully, thankful over and over for her silent consideration, her secret worry for him.

“Course,” he mumbles, keeping his voice solid so she doesn’t pick up on his surge of sentimentality. “It’ll be fun.”

She smiles at that, and another glance downwards reveals her loosened grip on the bags. “Yeah. Graduation too.”

He hums, grabbing for one of her bags and ignoring her complaints about it. After a while, she reaches for his hand, and they walk the rest of the way hand in hand.

-

Ebb barely bats an eye when Penny asks to spend the night, ushering them in while Penny chats about the party. It takes Ebb more time than Penny’s mum to decide, but she comes in sometime around midnight with a small, tight smile.

Her voice is only a whisper when she gives him permission, and Penny smiles sleepily. 

“But Si,” Ebb adds, right before she closes the door, “Stay away from the Pitches.”

Both he and Penny join in, laughing softly at the familiar phrase. Ebb huffs quietly at their chorusing, muttering about Simon’s best interests and the usual lecture she saves for more solemn moments. As soon as she leaves, Penny rolls over to face Simon in bed. 

“Still don’t know why she’s so against them? Cause there’s definitely more than her worrying about you.”

He debates for a brief moment. “Actually. Yeah. Look.”

Penny lays flat against the mattress so he can hop over her to get to his desk. He opens up a book, feeling along the pages for the ridge of extra paper. It comes loose, and he grabs his reading light and brings them over to Penny. 

“Check it out,” he whispers, and she squints fiercely against the bright light to make out what’s on the page. 

“Out loud?” 

He nods, so she starts again, reading aloud in a quiet whisper.

“Dear Ebeneza, I’m not going to say that I miss you.” Penny freezes for a moment as her eyes scan the page. “He misspelled  _ horrendous _ . But anyways.”

She starts again, grimacing at errors along the way. “It’s a horrendous thing, to miss someone. So I won’t say it. But this burning in my chest that doesn’t go away, only comes when you’re missing. I’m being dramatic, it’s only been a few days, and you really wanted to go on the school trip. That’s alright. But, yes. If there’s a word for this feeling, and it’s missing, then I suppose I miss you. You won’t talk to me, even after I send this, and I suppose that’s for the best. Maybe you won’t even read it-”

Penny pauses again, squinting. “The rest is scratched and blotted. I can’t read it.”

“Turn it around,” Simon mumbles, letting Penny’s voice lull him to sleep. Her quiet gasp rouses him a bit, but his eyes remain closed. 

“Oh, no  _ shit _ .”

He murmurs sleepily, not sure of what he’s saying. Penny shuts off the light and settles in besides him, shoving him closer to the wall. “How am I supposed to sleep  _ now _ ?”

“Mm?”

“His  _ aunt _ ?”

“Mhm.”

“Ebb’s a lesbian?”

“Mhm. Or, she likes girls at least. Both?”

“ _Simon."_

He’s already fallen asleep though. The last thing he hears is Penny’s huffy sigh, and then she grumbles and turns over to sleep. 

-

Graduation is uneventful, but Simon didn’t expect anything better. He tears up a bit at Penny’s speech and scoffs quietly at Baz’s own. Even though it made him tear up as much as Pen’s. His name is called and he receives his diploma, and then everyone is shuffled out of the auditorium. Just like that, it’s over. 

Penny catches up with him after accepting various congratulations and compliments on her speech, grinning like mad with excitement. Her face lights up when she spots Simon, and he tries hard not to let his tears slip free.

“Alright. Next stop? Food,” she says, laughing when Simon echoes her. “And then back to yours to grab your stuff, and then back to mine. I’ve got a grad gift for you.”

His face goes hot as he buries his hands in his pocket, fumbling with the bracelet he’d gotten custom made for her. It’s a simple beaded thing, blue and purple glass orbs threaded together to grant good luck and serenity - both of which she needs more of.

Thankfully, she’s turned away and doesn’t catch the nervous flicking of his eyes. She pushes her arm through Simon’s and steers him through the crowd until they find Ebb. Penny’s mum already went ahead to the restaurant, so they’re catching a ride with her.

“Proud of you,” she whispers, wrapping them both in a hug. Simon nearly succeeds in not crying, but when she plays his favorite music in the car, he can’t help the tears that spill down his face. Penny’s been holding herself together, but the moment Simon breaks, so does she. They share the backseat, limbs knocking into each other and matching tear-streaked grins. 

-

The day passes in a blur of tears, food, and gifts, and by the time they get a moment to relax, it’s already five. The sun hangs stubbornly in the sky, promising a warm night ahead. When Simon points it out, Penny huffs and glances at her skirt. She’s already picked out something for Simon to wear - a simple white t-shirt he’s had forever, and a pair of ripped blue jeans that barely fit him anymore.

They trade gifts at the same time, pulling out identical jewelry boxes and sharing a laugh. She slips on the bracelet as soon as she opens it, and then Simon opens his box.

Inside is a wide gold ring, and a small gold cross. He slips on the ring, looking unsure at the remaining cross. Penny watches him, pulling it from the box after another moment of hesitation. “It’s that earring you were looking at the other day. It matches your necklace and everything.”

Simon smiles gratefully, letting her push it through his piercing carefully. It’s a remnant from his past, a foster home that caused more trouble than good. He knows that’s part of the reason Ebb wants him staying away from Baz, besides the troubling letter he found in the kitchen drawer. His whole life seems to revolve around causing trouble, and they’re all too conscious of how that mirrors his past.

“I know you don’t like to be reminded of it,” she mumbles, screwing on the back part so it doesn’t fall off, “But I figured it’s a good way to show the change, you know? Tie your new faith with your old self. You’re the same person after all. Being religious doesn’t change that.”

He swallows down his tears, nodding his head silently because he doesn’t trust his voice to hold steady. Penny steps back after a moment, satisfied, and holds a mirror up to his face so he can see. It dangles down on a thin chain, barely falling past his jawline. He tugs on it, testing the weight.

“Thank you,” he manages, voice catching on his emotions. He doesn’t want to feel so sentimental; it’ll only make having a good time tonight difficult. He wants to feel carefree, to support Penny’s energy and be there so she can enjoy herself. So he shakes it off, rubbing a hand over his face and throwing a small smile in her direction. 

“Alright. What time does it start?” 

“Ten,” she replies. “But Mum will flip if I try to drive after the sun’s gone down, so we’ll leave in a few and pretend that we’re already there.”

“Where are we waiting then?” Simon asks with a frown. Penny pats his shoulder. 

“Yours, of course. I wanna talk to Ebb.”

Simon mutters, “Of course,” under his breath, and Penny laughs at his petulance. 

“Come on, maybe she’ll tell us all about her little love affair with  _ Fiona Pitch _ . That’s Baz’s  _ aunt _ , Simon. Imagine that? What are the odds? It's like Romeo and Juliet, except you hate him, and he thinks you’re hot.”

His ears feel warm when he whips his head over to face her. “He does  _ not _ .”

The words feel like lead in his mouth, though, and he knows that there’s a hint of truth to them. Baz isn’t subtle with his staring, and he’s as open with his sexuality as he can be. He goes out with just as many girls as he does flirt with guys. It’s not a secret. 

Still, Simon feels his body heat with shame at the thought of living that way. It’s not that he’s  _ against _ it, or anything like that, it’s just… strange.. He barely feels anything for the girls in their class. To like both genders so shamelessly is incomprehensible to him. And despite every reassurance that he hears from Ebb, and all the lectures Penelope has given him about the historic inaccuracies of biblical translation, living that way  _ is  _ a sin. 

According to the Bible. According to the shame in his stomach, and the sick feeling he gets when he wakes up from dreams that don’t make any sense. 

He rubs at his eyes, feeling Penny’s stare on him. Simon hears her shuffle around, but when he opens his eyes again, she’s facing away from him, digging through her bag. “Got everything already. Are you ready to go?”

Simon nods, trying to clear his mind of guilty thoughts. He stands up and lets her lead him out, stopping to say bye to her Mum along the way and taking the melted sweet that Priya hands him on his way out. When they’re in the car, (her graduation gift) she grins and slips on the giant tacky sunglasses that Ebb bought her as a gag gift for Christmas.

“Let’s go to yours.”

He takes advantage of the short ride to nap.


	2. if i always do what i'm told, i'll be bitter at fifty years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon really shouldn't tempt fate. He should ignore this feeling, whatever it may be. 
> 
> He doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two part two here we gooo
> 
> thank you to makayla for being an encouraging friend n' fueling this (aka being appreciative of baz on a motorcycle)
> 
> final part will be up sometime soon - if i'm not busy sorting out college shit)

Simon figured that Penny had been joking about investigating Ebb’s affairs, but when Ebb lets them in, she settles down onto the couch instead of heading to Simon’s room. 

“We have to get ready, Pen,” he reminds her, grimacing when Ebb offers them tea and lavender biscuits. 

“Sure.” Penny smiles smugly at the offer, patting the spot on the couch next to her. Simon shoots her a glare, though he’s honestly just as curious. He doesn’t want to pry if Ebb doesn’t offer the information first. Though, knowing her, she’ll spill it anyway in a teary story. 

When she returns with their tea, she’s humming one of her favorite songs, and Penny perks up at it immediately. It’s some old Madonna love song, completely different from the bright pop songs that Penny’s mum plays while she’s cooking dinner. 

Simon recognizes the ending tune, filling in the words in his mind as Ebb finishes off on her way back to the kitchen. She comes back with napkins and a bowl of sugar, and Penny thanks her effusively for it all. 

Ebb looks between them as she settles on the other couch, face tight with emotion. When she speaks, her voice wavers. “The party tonight is where?” 

Penny’s quick to answer that question, as well as all the others. For each answer, Ebb looks more relieved, sinking into the sofa gradually until she’s shaped vaguely like the letter  _ C _ . She turns her attention to Simon then, taking him in properly for the first time since they’ve arrived. 

“Penny got me them as a gift,” he offers, as he watches her attention snag on his ear. He picks up his ring, gold glinting in the fading sunlight, and she smiles approvingly. He lets her explain the significance behind it, feeling relieved at how Ebb’s initial worry melts into acceptance once again. 

She’s always worried for him - Penny too. Some days, it makes him feel like a burden, but now, he’s thankful for their consistent care. He’s so distracted by his sentimental thoughts that he barely notices when Penny changes the topic, only tuning back in when he hears Baz’s name come up in the conversation. 

“They’re all no-good. Troublemakers, the lot of them. His mother, bless her soul, might have raised him different. But it’s Fiona, so he’s probably no better than them,” Ebb says, voice taking on a sour quality that Simon rarely hears from her. From the look on Penny’s face, he can tell she’s not used to it either. 

“Isn’t it a bit unfair to assume that Baz is the same as his aunt?” Penny interjects gingerly, offering a disagreement. She doesn’t back down, even though Ebb’s watching her carefully, and her eyes are going glassy with unshed tears. 

“He gets in trouble a lot at school,” she sniffs, tilting her head in Simon’s direction. “Not for major things, but it’s enough to warrant discussion. He’s the central topic of a lot of gossip.”

Penny’s voice is softer now, as she reminds her that he lost his mother. “Surely, he’s acting out for that reason, among others.”

Ebb nods, tears finally slipping free. She sniffs hard, taking a sip of her tea. “Yes, I suppose. Just don’t want Simon getting tangled back in nonsense he doesn’t need to bother with.”

Penny nods sympathetically, maybe sensing that she won’t get a more elaborate story about Baz’s aunt. She glances at her phone, probably gauging how much time they’ll have to get ready, and then Ebb waves them off. 

“Right. Bust,” Penny says. Simon shrugs, not particularly disappointed. Ebb doesn’t tell him everything, even though she adopted him years ago. She did need to be informed about his old troubles - sneaking out and his tendency for occasional theft. Nothing major, but too much for his last foster parent. 

Ebb takes it all in stride. She’d given him flexible, negotiable rules, supported his decisions, and started taking him to church when he’d gotten curious. He’d gotten comfortable following his religion and folded himself away from any possible relapse into making trouble. In exchange, Ebb offers tidbits of her life, and all the ways that Simon reminds her of herself. 

“Can I pack your bag?” Penny asks as she shuts the door behind them. He nods, sprawling out on his bed. Maybe he can nap before they take off. The last dregs of sunlight feel good on his skin, coupled with the breeze through his open window. 

Penny wakes him after an hour. The sun is nearly gone now, and he feels groggy and uncomfortable, like he could sleep for a hundred years and still be tired. He shakes off the sleep and stands, bones creaking at the movement. Penny eyes his rumpled outfit and sighs, moving to his closet.

“My jeans are fine, Pen.”

“They’re all  _ rich _ . Imagine what Dev will be wearing.”

Simon imagines a waistcoat and a monocle. It’s even worse when he imagines what Baz might wear if he were going. Simon pictures a ridiculous scarf and lounging loafers with shiny gold buckles. He stifles a laugh in his palm and lets Penny pick out a new outfit for him. After some deliberation, she decides on a shimmery white shirt and another faded pair of jeans. 

He pulls a face at the long rips in them, but throws them on with a huff anyway. Penny starts giggling as Simon’s earring gets tangled in the shirt fabric, trying her best to untangle it.

“Alright,” she smiles, after finally separating the two. “Good.”

She hands him his bag as the room finally falls into shadow, the sun leaving them in the dim glow of the moonlight. They stop off in the kitchen first to say bye to Ebb, who's gone misty eyed again. Penny smiles fondly at her while Simon wraps her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground despite her grumbling about being too heavy. 

“You’re a giant now,” she huffs, and the fondness of her voice feels too big for the room. Penny embraces her next, and Simon watches them exchange a few words in hushed whispers. Simon thinks she might be telling her to take care of him, the way Penny’s mum had, but he can’t be sure. 

Ebb sees them off. The drive will take at  _ least _ twenty minutes, so they stop off at the convenience store to grab a few essentials - aspirin, bandaids, water bottles.

Simon’s about to head to the till to pay, when he catches Penny lingering in an aisle.

“What are we missing?” he asks, coming to stand beside her. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she stares straight ahead, and Simon chokes when he reaches the end to her line of sight.

A choked noise falls from his throat. “ _ Condoms _ ? What do you need  _ those _ for?” Apparently, he’s not being quiet enough, because a woman in the next aisle harrumphs loudly. 

“They’re a just-in-case, Simon. It’s better to be safe than to be a teen mother! And actually, I’ll give you one. Or two.”

Simon’s mouth falls open, and she taps his chin closed without looking.

“I don’t need them!” he whispers furiously, catching sight of the vibrant red of his face in the mirror at the end of the sunglasses aisle. She just sighs and tosses them in the basket, ignoring his protest with a hand up. 

“It’s for safety,” she insists, walking over to the till. She pays shamelessly, despite the curious look of the cashier between the both of them. He excuses himself to wander by the exit until she’s done, face prickling with heat, and then when they get in her car, she shoves two in his wallet. 

“Penny, please. I’ll look like such a prick if I have these in here.”

She’s unruffled, easing the car smoothly out of the parking space. “No need for anyone to see them if you’re not using them.”

Simon just stares at her, then turns up the music and leans his head against the window for the rest of the ride. 

He zones out, only jerking forward when Penny slams on the brakes. His bleary eyes focus on something running across the road, which explains her sudden stop and tense grip on the wheel. Simon yawns and pats her head to calm her down, and she leans into the touch even as she keeps driving. 

Once they arrive, she checks her phone again. “Okay. I’ve got ninety-seven percent. How about you?”

Simon tugs his phone out of his pocket, turning it over to see the screen. “Twenty-four,” he replies with a grimace. Penny sighs and digs her charger from her bag. Simon’s thankful that she thought to ask before they left the car, though they can’t exactly sit here all night to charge his phone.

She answers his question before he can ask. “We’ll find an outlet somewhere inside.”

He nods and pockets the charger and his phone, feeling more secure about that plan, in case Ebb calls him.

“Do you think they’ll have drinks?” he asks absently, as he shuts his door. A breeze comes and goes, momentarily breaking up some of the clammy night air as it envelops their skin. Penny frowns and says, “Probably. Will you drink if they do?”

He contemplates, noticing the shine of her eager eyes. “No,” he decides, “I’ll stay sober and you can try it, if you want.”

Her answer comes in the form of a grin, which he returns gladly. After all, it’s for Penny. He can stomach a night out, and still try to have fun. 

Already, Simon spots Gareth on the sprawling lawn, smiling and bobbing his head to music thumping from inside. He tails them in, showing them the main rooms and when Penny tells him she left their bags in her car, he leaves them be. 

Penny insists on finding a drink table before she and Simon find an outlet, so they begin a search. Maybe she’ll only try one thing and end up being disgusted with the taste, and then they can spend the rest of the night dancing and eating up the gossip. A glimpse at her expression after she drinks her first shot tells Simon that he may have been too hopeful. 

-

Penny is, according to the blonde stranger next to Simon, absolutely “pounding shots.”

This is her fifth drink. Or maybe sixth. She is most definitely not a lightweight. The stranger -  _ Agatha _ \- is impressed, swaying along to the music while she makes comments to Simon about the party and his pretty shirt. Her words, not his. 

“You wanna get out of here?” she asks, eyes shining. She’s very pretty, now that Simon’s noticing. Not pretty in the way Penny is, with her thick curls and delicate features. But strong, and fierce with straight hair and sharp cheekbones. He’s thinking about taking her up on her offer (but where would they even go?) when something shiny catches in the corner of his vision. 

He looks up through the bright haze of lights, swirling reds and deep blues, to see Baz with his head thrown back, dancing with a girl. His shirt is black, glinting with metallic golds. Right now, he looks more heartbreaker than troublemaker. Laughing, getting closer and moving in time with the beat, dipped in purple light. 

He’d expected him to be here, dreaded it even, but the sight is still shocking. Simon is reminded suddenly of things he shouldn’t mess with, like alcohol and indulging in breathless dreams.    
Simon doesn’t even notice when Agatha speaks again, but he watches her leave without stopping her. He leans against the table and swallows hard against the guilt he feels pooling in his throat.

When his eyes lift again, Baz is staring straight at him. His gaze cuts through the mass of people around him, head tipped back as the girl leans forward to whisper in his ear. He laughs at whatever she says, smiling devastatingly at Simon. 

He needs a drink. He needs to get out of this stifling room and rub his eyes until the image of Baz disappears from his eyelids. He sees it every time he blinks, as he stumbles out of the room, upstairs into another noisy bedroom. 

“Do you know where I can charge this?” he asks a random guy at the edge of the crowd. He eyes Simon, nodding his head and gesturing for Simon to follow. They end up on a patio, and Simon’s eyes catch on the outlet in the wall and the pillows on the floor.

He turns to thank the stranger, but he’s disappeared already. Simon plugs his phone in, grateful for the seat outside to breathe away from everyone. Surely, Penny will be fine on her own. He’ll check on her in a while. He leans against the wall, settling on one of the pillows and fiddling with his phone. 

The sounds of the party are muffled through the wall, but he can still hear the vague beat of the music. Each thump of the bass reminds him of Baz, the sway of his body against the instrumental. Heavy, rhythmic sounds that fill Simon’s head and make it harder to remember that he’s supposed to not be thinking of that. 

The second he gets his head to clear, Baz appears in front of him - like he’s wandered straight from Simon’s thoughts. 

“Snow,” he says curtly, sounding not at all surprised to see Simon. A feeling like suspicion filters into Simon’s blood, and then it’s replaced with adrenaline.

“Did you follow me out here?” Simon asks, wariness leaking into his tone, though he tries his best to suppress it. Baz notices (infuriatingly) and flashes a sharp grin. 

“Just bored,” he replies, sinking down onto the pillow right next to Simon. He scoots closer to the wall, trying not to watch Baz’s face as his eyes slide closed. 

“Didn’t look boring,” he mumbles, shutting his eyes and willing away the fever dream memory. Baz scoffs loud enough to draw Simon’s attention back. 

“She doesn’t interest me.” His tone - derisive, almost bitter - catches on the edges of Simon’s curiosity, mind filling in the “ _ but you do,”  _ that goes unsaid between them. And shockingly, though Baz didn’t say the words, Simon finds himself agreeing. That Baz interests him, in some out-of-reach way that he can’t understand.

His feelings slide out of reach, slippery and unnamed. He wishes he could pin them, grab Baz’s face and make him hold still too, so he could figure out what it is that’s bothering him so much. His eyes narrow under Simon’s scrutiny, something calculating being drawn to the surface. Simon wants to say something to break up the odd tension between them, to stop his eyes from wandering across Baz’s face, but he’s interrupted. 

“Ditch with me.” It’s not a question. Simon stares, trying to comprehend what he just heard. 

“School’s already over…”

Baz rolls his eyes and sighs. His breath washes over Simon’s face, smelling of something sharp and cold. 

“You’ve been drinking,” Simon accuses, leaning forward to see if he can catch the scent on Baz’s clothing.

Baz casts his eyes skyward and lets Simon lean closer. 

He doesn’t catch anything but this sharp scent, not like alcohol, but like leather and cologne. Baz isn’t even wearing his leather though - Simon’s pretty sure he only wears it to protect from the wind when he’s riding his bike. 

“I had  _ one  _ shot,” Baz mutters, and Simon flinches at how close he sounds. Just as he’s about to move back, Baz grabs his chin, tilting his head up so they can meet eyes. Simon feels his heart lurch dangerously in his chest at their proximity, at the way he can’t stop his eyes from roaming, taking in every feature. 

Baz looks sharp, in every way. Thick, arched eyebrows to offset his cutting gaze. A long, crooked nose that looks like it’s been broken more than a few times, though Simon can’t imagine him losing in a fight. Or remember ever seeing him in one. His lips are curved up now - his mouth is set like a knife. 

Simon hates how his chest is bubbly with excitement, even when his skin prickles over with nerves.

“Ditch with me,” Baz repeats, tilting Simon’s chin so he can observe the earring closer. “Skip out on the party with me and let’s go somewhere else.” 

“Oh.” 

His voice comes out thin. Baz narrows his eyes and moves back, leaning out of Simon’s space to let him think. Or… something. His eyes dart down to the earring and back up again.

“Where?” he asks, instead of turning him down like he  _ should _ . Truthfully, he shouldn’t even be talking to him, tempting his temptation to come and wreck his stability. But well, what does he really  _ know _ about Baz, besides what Ebb has told him? He stares and he flirts with everyone, but isn’t that like half the students in their class?   


“Around. Anywhere. This is boring.” He gestures at the grounds below them, and Simon takes in the masses of people dancing and laughing. 

“Not really,” he mumbles, even though sitting out on the balcony alone isn’t exactly fun. Baz scoffs. 

“You’re not drinking or dancing Snow, what could you possibly be missing out on by leaving?”

Simon contemplates that. Thinks of Penny downstairs and scrambles to use that as his last shred of common sense. One more reason to stay, besides Ebb’s warning.  _ What would they even  _ do _ if they left? He and Baz don’t even really talk.  _

“Penny’s drinking. I’m supposed to be watching her.” The second he says it, Baz grins, and dissolves the last semblance of self-control that Simon had. Something crackles between them, and Simon can’t pull his eyes away. 

“She’s passed out in Dev’s bedroom,” he laughs, “safe and sound. Someone stayed sober to watch over all the drunklings to make sure they don’t make a mess.”

Ebb’s warning rings in his ears, suddenly sounding flat compared to the promise of escaping this balcony and doing something other than watching over a drunk Penny. Or, sitting here all night, thinking of Baz. 

He knows that her reasoning is good, that she just wants him to stay away from anything that can land him back in the system, another problem child to discard. Even though she formally adopted him years ago, she’s worried to lose him again.

He’s aware of Baz watching him, all too aware of his heart beating too fast. Aware of Ebb’s various warnings, and the way that they don’t quite line up with what he wants to see under Baz’s cool exterior. Something about his eyes is misleading, stranding Simon in conclusions that he hasn’t reached yet. 

“I need to tell her I’m leaving,” he says, voice coming out thin and dry. Baz grins and stands smoothly, offering his hand. Simon ignores it, instead leaning over to grab his phone and check his messages. He pockets it reluctantly after seeing the blank screen, and grabs his charger to stuff it away as well. 

Baz is fiddling with the door handle patiently, unfazed by Simon’s distraction.

“Let’s go, then.” 

It’s the brightest Baz has ever looked, made up of mischief and intentions. Simon’s heart hammers against his ribs, excitement turning into hesitance and back again, a rushing tide of back and forth emotions. 

-

Penny hadn’t woken up when he went to say goodbye (and maybe have her convince him to stay), but he’d left a message on her phone while Baz busied himself grabbing his jacket. There were a few curious onlookers, but he’d parked out in some secluded area by the back fence. Simon was immensely relieved to escape the attention, wary of their open stares and gossiping.

Baz smirks now, tossing the jacket at Simon with instruction to put it on. It’s snug and worn in, and it smells like Baz. Somehow, it calms him. 

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle,” Simon admits, staring down at the wide seat nervously.

“First time for everything. Get on.” 

Simon does, swallowing down his nerves and shoving his hands in his pockets on instinct. Baz turns back to look at him curiously. 

“You need to wrap your arms around me, unless you want to fly off when we hit the main road.” 

Simon swallows again and removes his hands, wrapping them tentatively around Baz’s middle. Baz scoffs and grabs his wrist, leading Simon to tighten his hold.

“It’s fast,” he explains. “You’re going to want to hold on tighter.” 

Simon wants to doubt it (there are still  _ traffic _ laws), but one look at the glint in Baz’s eyes tells him to listen. He tries his best to keep away, to stop feeling curious over the expanse of permission he’s being given. He settles with his legs spread wide around Baz’s own thighs, his hands holding onto his own elbows to keep from brushing against him. 

As soon as he takes off though, Simon shuffles closer on instinct, pressing his chest to Baz’s back. He can’t hear his laugh above the motor, roaring away as he speeds off, but he can feel the way his stomach tenses beneath his arms. 

“Where are we going?” Simon tries to shout over the engine, but he can’t even hear his own voice past the wind blowing in his ears. Eventually, when they have to stop at a red light, he asks again, and Baz just shifts and turns to shush him. 

“But-” 

The light turns green and he’s cut off again. 

After a while with no answer, Simon closes his eyes and leans forward, focusing on the wind instead of the heavy feeling in his stomach. 

Baz starts to slow, so Simon lifts his head and opens his bleary eyes to take in their surroundings. He’s driving along a path, surrounded by trees and street lamps. Simon notices the dark rippling of water along the side, and he blinks as the light shifts along the black, glossy surface. 

As Baz stops, Simon clears his throat to ask, “Are we at a lake?” Baz gestures at it, turning just to arch an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Okay, yeah. We are. Why?”

“Get off the bike, Snow.” 

Simon does. “Are you going to kill me?” 

“Only if you’re getting in,” Baz grins. The light hangs off his features, turning him sharper than usual. He looks untouchable almost, expression shifting as he moves in and out of the light casted. Simon stares at his face until it disappears under his shirt. 

“Uh…” 

Baz doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response. Instead, he turns without waiting for Simon to catch up, leaving him to watch as he strips off his jeans. Simon can feel his mouth gaping wide open as he shouts after Baz, rushing forward so as not to get left behind in the dark.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” 

At this, he finally turns, already waist deep in the water. Simon observes his clothing folded neatly on a rock (his pants must still be on - thank  _ god _ for small miracles).

“It’s a lake,” he says, slowly as if Simon wouldn’t understand otherwise. “I’m swimming, Snow. You can watch if you want.”

Simon huffs at his indignant tone, at the challenge under his words.  _ If you want _ , as if he had that option. He’d just stand here and completely ruin the point of doing anything fun, and then they’d go back to the party and Simon would fall asleep wondering what might’ve happened if he’d gotten in. 

Also, if this counts as “troublemaking,” it’s hardly the worst thing they could do. Simon figured that Baz spends his time graffiting homes or like… stealing from old ladies. The truth is as unexpected as it is curious. 

Simon takes off Baz’s jacket and his own shirt, feeling only slightly embarrassed by Baz’s intent gaze. He’s about to wade in wearing his jeans, but something about the careful way Baz folded his clothes tells him that he wouldn’t be keen about letting Simon back on the bike while he was soaking wet. 

Reluctantly, he bends to take them off, tugging his shoes off along with them. He tries to make himself smaller as he steps in, despite the fact that Baz is staring up at the sky intently, pointedly away from Simon. The water is a bit cold, and he pushes a thick breath between his teeth before he submerges himself fully. 

Underwater, he opens his eyes, taking comfort in the stillness of the water, before he lifts his head. Baz’s eyes wander back to him, glancing upwards at Simon’s hair before flitting back down to his eyes.

He hums, seemingly pleased. Then he moves to float on his back, and Simon forces his eyes away from the expanse of skin that becomes exposed. 

“Why did you invite me?” 

He winces at how loud his voice sounds, but Baz seems to be unbothered. Simon waits, eyes wandering to his hair, the way it flows seamlessly into the water, spread out darker against the already black water.

“I wanted to,” Baz replies simply. His eyes flutter closed, and Simon can’t help but move closer, drawn by how quiet his voice is. He doesn’t want to miss anything he says, and he’s pretty sure that if he asked him to speak up, his request would go ignored. 

“Okay, but  _ why _ . You don’t even talk to me,” Simon probes. Baz sighs, eyes opening again slowly to meet Simon’s. 

“It’s that simple. I wanted to. I want to talk to you.” 

When he says it like that, so matter of fact, Simon can’t doubt it. Even though it sounds unrealistic. He wants to probe further, figure out exactly  _ why _ he wants him here. If Penny may have been right, if it’s wrong of him to want to know. 

Searching yields answers he doesn’t want. Or, he wants, but probably shouldn’t. He sighs and mirrors Baz, filling his chest with air so he can float. 

He pretends not to feel Baz’s eyes on him as he does it, and pretends that it doesn’t make him breathe a little faster. 

Simon loses track of time in the clutch of the water, in the hold of Baz’s questions. 

It’s mostly small talk, cursory conversation that they never had throughout the years in school. Still, there are questions that cross lines, invisible boundaries that they’re not familiar with. It feels easy and also not, treading the lines of warning that he’s been given for so long. 

He’s starting to think that maybe Ebb misplaced her opinion about him, and then he realizes that he never completely believed it in the first place. 

_ So what’s this discomfort?  _ He wonders, letting his hand float over the surface of the water in lazy circles. Something unnamed shifts under his skin, a feeling that he can’t quite wipe away. It’s a humming, drowsy thing that picks up when he looks at Baz, sweeping him under and confusing him.

Simon isn’t sure how long they’re in the water. Everything is lazy and soft in the dark, questions and answers ricocheting between them calmly. Baz asks about Simon’s necklace, and he remembers suddenly that he’s wearing his earring. In the water, it’s weightless. 

“Are you actually religious, or is it a statement piece?”   


Simon thinks to laugh, but the silence around them discourages him. It feels almost like being in church, this heavy, sacred quiet. 

“Religious. It’s a big piece of my life.”

Baz is silent for a few moments more, before he swims closer to Simon. Now, he can make out the moisture on his lashes. A droplet slides down the bridge of his nose, over the swell of his lips, and Simon looks away before he can follow it down his chin. 

“So you believe in the sins. All the Bible stuff, and the ‘going to hell’ part.”

Simon considers for a moment. He almost allows himself to wonder why Baz is asking, until he catches the quick way his gaze falls to Simon’s mouth and doesn’t let up. Want is a curious thing, something Simon’s never really felt.

That doesn’t mean he can’t see it, all the lines of intention in Baz’s presence. It makes the feeling under his skin return with a vengeance, burning fiery hot in the pit of his stomach. 

“I believe that god is forgiving,” he starts, a vague repetition of Ebb’s words that he believes wholeheartedly, “I don’t think certain sins should count as sins. At least, not the ones that are in our human nature. The things we can’t help, or the things that don’t hurt others.”

Baz hums, eyes finally shifting back upwards. 

“Fascinating,” he says, and it might’ve sounded mocking, if not for all the curious honesty behind it. “Come on, Snow, there’s other places to be.”

Simon watches as he swims back to the shore, then follows close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this update, and for any kudos and comments y'all might leave
> 
> to all the people who continuously show support, i SEE you <3 y'all make my days ten times brighter, i appreciate the hell out of all of you
> 
> and of course, stay safe and careful y'all <3


	3. no sweeter innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's downfall is Baz on a motorcycle, being honest and attractive and considerate of his appetite. Who knew?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi y'all, third and final chapter ! i hope you guys enjoy <3

Simon didn’t know there were any parks open at this hour (a glance at his phone says it’s a little after midnight) but that’s where they pull up to next. 

“Do you come here often?” he asks, as Baz navigates the bike into a secluded area separate from the main park, coming across a rather dilapidated swing set. 

“Sometimes. Mostly at night when it’s empty. Not as hot.” 

Simon hums, though it gets lost in the gentle rumble of the motorcycle’s engine. He shuts it off and gestures for Simon to take off the jacket, so he leaves it hanging on the handles.

“Are we getting on the swings?” Simon asks, and Baz nods, leaping up to grab the bar on top. The metal groans but holds his weight, as he plants his feet on the seat to swing back and forth. 

“I’m going to… get on normally,” Simon says awkwardly, turning his face away to hide the stain of blush on his cheeks. He swings his legs up and over, and Baz drops into his own seat to match him. The wind picks up for a moment, tousling Baz’s hair as he leans his head back.

They lapse into silence as the swings creak under their weight, interrupting the soundless air of the night. 

“Where do you want to go after this, Snow?” 

Simon thinks for a moment. His mind flashes blankly, coming up with nothing until, embarrassingly, his stomach grumbles. He flushes when Baz turns to him, eyes amused and wide in a way that Simon’s never seen before. 

“Hungry?” 

He nods, pressing his hands to his face to cool his burning skin. Baz hums and pulls out his mobile, flashing the screen on so Simon can glimpse the time. It’s halfway to one by now. They’ve passed time just sitting in silence, before his stomach grumbled and broke up the peace. 

“I know a twenty-four hour diner just outside the city. If you don’t mind the drive.” 

Simon thinks about that, letting his eyes wander across Baz’s face. His eyes are still earnest and soft, an effect of innocence that Simon’s never seen on his face before. He’s not sure whether he trusts it or not. He thinks he  _ wants _ to, though.

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “Okay. Let’s do that.”

Baz nods, swinging forward one more time to jump off. The thick soles of his boots land harshly in the dirt, kicking up dust and rocks. Simon jumps more gingerly, trying his best not to get messy and embarrass himself. With his luck, he’d end up falling over and slamming his face into the ground. 

Baz waits for him to catch up, and then they start walking together. Simon feels the heat leaching from Baz’s side to his own, wondering distantly whether he’d be warm to the touch, or cool, like his expression.

He has to hold his own hand to keep from grabbing at Baz’s to see, too caught up by his curiosity to think of how odd it’d come across. By the time they find the motorcycle again, he’s practically shaking with restraint, clutching his own fingers tightly to keep from reaching out.

Baz keeps casting glances at him, gaze dipping down to Simon’s hands and up to his face again. Simon hides his flush against the darkness, turning his face away from the bit of light filtering through the clouds overhead. 

“Hang on tight,” Baz says, voice like gravel. “It gets kind of bumpy towards the off roads.” 

Which is great, just what Simon needs. Another reason to want to hold on tighter, one more reason to follow the stupid irrational thoughts in his head. 

“Yeah,” Simon mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath in, then stretches his arms out around Baz. Just before he takes off, he pauses. Simon watches as his shoulders go rigid.

“What?-”

“Just… here,” Baz says, grabbing Simon’s hand and pressing it flat against his stomach. Simon swallows hard as he feels the muscle shift under his touch, tensing as his fingers spread out across his shirt. 

“For safety,” Baz mumbles, revving the engine to cut off the sound of his voice. The sound of it echoes off the trees, and then they’re flying down the road, with Simon’s hands splayed out across Baz’s stomach.

His thoughts are a litany of simple words, ranging from  _ good _ to  _ bad _ to  _ oh no _ . He’s not sure what to make of the contact, or the fact that he likes it so much. He doesn’t quite know what to do with the strangling sense of guilt that crawls up his throat when he hides his face in Baz’s shoulder and he feels the cool metal of his earring press against his face. 

_ What do I want, what does he want, what should I want from this? _

Simon knows what Baz wants. He thinks so, at least. 

_ So why is it so complicated?  _

The answer: the cross around his neck and the earring he’s wearing. The way sitting here feels so much like backsliding onto his past, a culmination of Ebb’s warnings and the weight on his ear, around his neck. 

He thinks he knows what he wants. He’s sure that’s the reason why he feels so guilty. For each warning Ebb gave him, another reminder plays out in his head. That this couldn’t be wrong, not really. His  _ own  _ words echo. 

There’s nothing sinful about being human, about  _ feeling _ . Want is a natural thing, something that can’t be helped. Nothing  _ wrong _ . 

He tightens his arms around Baz, ignoring the guilt crawling up his spine in favor of watching the streetlights blur around them. The wind is cleansing, fresh and sharp on his overheated skin. It brushes through the grooves of his wrung out thoughts, leaving him feeling reinvigorated. 

When they stop at a red light, he can’t help but move closer, relishing in the way that Baz’s stomach clenches under his hand. 

The diner is a bright spot in a dark area, all lit up by bright neon and a single lamp post in the center of the car park. Baz pulls in smoothly, twisting his upper body to face Simon. His eyes are wild, glinting questionably. 

“What?” he huffs, arching an eyebrow so high that Simon’s worried it’ll disappear into his hairline. 

“What?” Simon repeats, too aware of his hands still wrapped around Baz’s waist to pretend that he doesn’t know. What this is, what he’s accelerating towards. Instead of answering, Baz turns away again. Simon’s worried that he messed things up somehow, that maybe he misread the whole situation, but then Baz’s fingers come up and trace the line of Simon’s fingers, unbelievably gentle and completely unmistakable. 

Just as suddenly, he takes a hold of Simon’s wrist, moving him and dismounting from the seat. Simon swallows down his embarrassment and gets off jerkily, legs feeling wobbly and numb from sitting for so long. Baz waits for him to shake out his limbs, and then they step forward together. Simon keeps the jacket on even as they’re seated. The only other people are a tired looking couple with a bright eyed toddler, and a waiter with watery eyes.

The first thing he offers as he passes them menus is coffee, which Simon drinks black while Baz adds loads of sugar and cream to his. 

Conversation comes easy now, maybe now that something has shifted. There’s an intense look to Baz’s eyes that wasn’t there before, and Simon’s sure he’s returning it, eager and lit from the inside. When their legs collide under the table, when their hands fumble together over the syrup containers, when they lock eyes and don’t look away - each thing adds to the burn under his skin.

Simon feels something falter, notices when something winds up tight in his body and doesn’t quite snap. 

“Simon,” Baz says, voice strange and quiet. Simon is reminded again of the lake, of a hushed tone with something  _ more _ to it. It’s like in church, something quiet and confessional, and yet the context of it is intimate, sacrilege for sins.

“Baz-”

The waiter reappears, looking between them curiously. “You boys done here or do you want some more time?” 

“Done,” Simon says abruptly, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Baz snorts across the booth, standing up and scooting out. He hands a twenty over despite the man’s protest that it’s too much. 

“Keep the change. The late shift is no joke,” he says dryly, gesturing at the mostly empty building. 

And well. If Simon had any hesitations about kissing him before, he certainly doesn’t now. 

When Baz flashes him a soft grin - knife sharp edges hidden - his reservations fly out the window. Once they’re seated on the bike, he doesn’t wait for Baz to ask before he says, “Can we go to yours?” 

All Baz does is nod, leaning forward on the bike and starting it. This time, Simon doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, and Baz doesn’t falter when he brings Simon’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. Simon’s heart jumps, racing much too fast. 

-

Baz pulls up in a dark driveway, cutting off the motor and pressing a finger to his lips as he turns back to look at Simon. His eyes are dark and intense, and Simon nods, quieting against the bolt of excitement that runs through him when Baz’s eyes shift to his mouth.

Ebb would probably have his head for this, if she knew he wanted to kiss a Pitch. More like snog. More like getting so close that they breathe the same air.

He wonders how the feeling could come so suddenly, when he’d spent all night thinking of avoiding Baz. As he follows him inside, hands almost touching, he realizes that it’s not a new feeling. That the burning feeling under his skin isn’t the apprehension he believed it to be. That when Baz looks at him, he feels like something  _ beautiful _ . Wanted, in a way that he’s never known.

He’s never understood that, mostly because he’s never  _ felt _ it before. There’s no reference, no way to explain or have asked anyone.

The feeling is direct, an effect where the cause is just Baz - his heavy lidded stare, the openness of his face when he thinks no one is watching him. Simon always is, really. Watching. It’s a wonder it’s taken him this long to figure it out. 

Baz leads him downstairs into a dark room, flicking a light switch along the way and casting the room in a deep red glow. It’s too dim for Simon to see more than a few feet in front of him, but Baz takes his hand and guides him to sit on his bed. 

For a moment, they sit silently, staring at each other to gauge reactions. Simon can hear his shaky breaths in the silence, his own breath catching at the glint in Baz’s eyes. Then-

“Simon,” he breathes, and lapses into silence. They’re so close. 

“You don’t really call me that,” Simon sighs back, latching on to the impulse, leaning in. “My name.”

Baz sighs against his mouth, so close that Simon’s eyes flutter shut. His whole being is shuddering inside him, urging him closer. When he blinks, he catches a glimpse of a radio flashing in the corner, turned down low and playing something whisper quiet and jagged, an echo of Simon’s desire. 

“Simon,” he says again, and Simon’s lost; so lost and so  _ wanting _ . He doesn’t know what to do to close the distance in a good way, without smashing their faces together and being clumsy. He leans back and opens his mouth just barely, brain flickering out of comprehension as Baz moves forward to meet him. 

And then he can’t think, can barely  _ breathe _ . Baz’s hands come up and tug the jacket from Simon’s shoulders, and Simon lets him, shoves his hands into Baz’s hair and lets himself get carried away. His shirt comes off, getting caught on the earring for a moment and dissolving their contact. Baz takes off his next, and somehow, they end up sprawled out with Baz leaning over Simon.

Kiss after kiss. One on his lips, lingering and hard, enough to draw a quiet noise from his mouth. And then he shifts, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek, and lower still, trailing over Simon’s jaw. His hands scrabble uselessly at Baz’s shoulders, trying to tug him back up for a proper kiss. He leans in closer, tongue darting out to trace along Simon’s neck. 

Simon’s head falls back, heart racing ahead of his thoughts, cutting off every coherent thing he can fathom. 

“Baz-”

“ _ Hush _ ,” he whispers, but he pauses anyway. Gently, he cups Simon’s face, thumb spreading out across his cheekbone. “Alright?” 

Simon thinks he’s more than alright. He’s sure if they kept going, if things got more intense, that he’d go along. But…

“Hey,” Baz interrupts softly, moving so that he’s face to face with Simon. “We don’t have to keep going. We can sleep, if you want. Or I can drop you back off at the sleepover.” 

Simon shakes his head, trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t- I don’t want to go further than kissing,” 

Baz nods, smoothing Simon’s hair back from his forehead. He does his best to catch his breath, leaning into the touch and allowing it to calm him. 

“That’s fine. Don’t worry over it.”

Simon hums quietly as Baz shifts off of him. His fingers climb up, lingering on the sore spot on his neck.  _ A hickey _ ? His brain still feels dull and foggy, and his trousers were starting to go tight for a moment before they stopped. His bare skin feels overheated, and for a moment, he wishes Baz was still close. 

“Are you alright?” Baz asks. His voice is softer than before, and he’s still running his hands through Simon’s hair. Simon nods again, turning to face him properly. His gaze falls down to the sharp lines of his collarbones, the tan spill of skin of his torso. Simon waits for the guilt to crash over him, for anxiety to swallow him up and ruin the bliss.

Looking at Baz though, all he feels is peaceful. Content, like this was meant to happen, and it finally did. 

“I think I had a crush on you,” Simon mumbles, the words spilling out onto his tongue with his sudden realization. 

“I would hope so,” Baz laughs, hand tightening in Simon’s hair for a moment before releasing again. “I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

Simon blinks. He giggles weakly, feeling relieved at the truth. Baz leans in and kisses him softly, just once. 

“Good, good.” 

Baz snorts at that, pulling Simon close and tucking his head under his chin. Simon sighs, wrapping his arm around Baz’s waist. They just  _ fit _ . It’s a bit awkward, and definitely not something he’s familiar with, but it works somehow. It’s warm, and he’d rather be close than far.

“My mum sort of hates your family,” Simon whispers. “I’m sorry that I avoided you all the time.”

“Hush, it’s not your fault. It’s fine now.” His brow quirks up. “Why does she hate my family though?”

Simon hums, pulling away to look at Baz’s face. “My mum and your aunt had a  _ thing _ in highschool.”

Baz’s face shifts, confusion pulling a shade over his feature. Before Simon can ask, he shakes his head. “Oh?”

“Why?” Simon frowns and Baz shakes his head again, as if clearing the thought from his head. His face opens up again, humor sneaking its way back onto his expression.

“Just. The odds of that, I suppose. That they were involved and now it’s us.”

Simon thinks of that for a moment, the  _ us _ . He’s unable to hold back his grin. “We’re  _ involved _ ?”

Baz huffs, pushing Simon gently, then immediately gathering him up again. “If you want that.  _ This _ .”

And what would that mean? Kissing him, certainly. They’ve done loads of that. But also,  _ this _ . Watching each other, doing that thing that Baz is doing to him right now, fingers slipping through hair, and dancing along each other’s limbs. Talking, like they’ve done all night. 

Simon thinks that he likes that. 

“Yeah. I do want this,” he decides, and it’s only when he studies Baz’s face that he realizes how long it took him to answer. “Do you?” 

Baz nods, mouth opening like he wants to say something, before he shuts it. Simon watches him deliberate, expression carefully wiped clean, before he speaks. 

“I have. Wanted it,” he whispers. His voice is rough, and Simon can’t help but raise his hand to cup Baz’s cheek. “For a long time.”

“Me too, I think. Maybe I just didn’t realize,” Simon breathes, and Baz huffs a laugh, hand coming up to Simon’s face to cover it. 

“Baz?” 

“Simon.”   
  
“Can we keep kissing? I really liked that.” 

And then Baz uncovers his face and kisses him, and it’s a long while before either of them speaks again. 

-

The next morning is slow. Baz sleeps in a bit later than Simon, and when he wakes up, he presses a kiss to Simon’s lips before offering breakfast.

“Shut up, Snow. Christ, you’ll wake the whole city.” Simon winces at his word choice, snapping back instantly with an eye roll.    


“You didn’t mind me making noise la-” Baz muffles Simon with his palm, shooting him a vicious look as they head up the stairs. 

Besides, someone’s  _ already _ awake. The whole house smells like cinnamon and coffee, familiar to Simon because of Ebb’s early morning breakfast habits. 

“Fiona’s finally decided to make breakfast,” Baz mutters, urging Simon up with a hand on his back. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll cut through the living room so she won’t see us. We’re meant to be at Dev’s anyway.”

Simon nods as they reach the top of the stairs. He lets Baz take the lead so they can leave, but ends up running into his back as he stops. 

Simon frowns, tilting his head to see past Baz. 

“Simon?” 

_Ebb_.

Sitting on the couch, fingers tapping nervously against a cup of coffee (smelling unburnt, so  _ she  _ obviously didn’t make it).

“Mum…” Simon starts, but his voice falters.

Baz’s aunt chooses this moment to stride in, taking in the both of them with only a slightly chastised expression. 

“Wasn’t there a class party for you all to be at?” 

Baz stares at her. Simon turns to him, waiting for an explanation, or any indication that this is normal to him. 

“Mum,” Simon starts again, “why are you here?” 

She clears her throat. “Uh talking?” 

Simon watches her mess with her bangs (she’s honestly wearing  _ clips _ in her hair). Baz’s aunt grins, nodding and moving to sit by Ebb. Simon watches, partly horrified and very confused, as Ebb  _ blushes _ . 

“I want nothing to do with this,” Baz says calmly, but his expression is just as horrified as Simon’s. “We’re going to get breakfast.” 

“Aren’t we going to talk about this?” Simon squeaks. He’s not really sure who he’s addressing. All of them, probably. 

“Later,” Ebb assures, still looking a bit uneasy. Simon feels slightly ill, as Baz tugs him outside. Once they’re seated, Simon takes a deep breath. 

“Are we going to talk about that?”

“Do you want to talk about our respective guardians’ private affairs?” 

Simon shakes his head so fast that the world blurs, and Baz laughs as he starts the bike. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all, thank you for reading !
> 
> find me on tumblr at @loveandwarandmagick , hit my inbox for reqs of more stuff you wanna see, or just check out the blog for more snowbaz content 
> 
> be safe, be kind. love y'all, thank you so much for those who continue to support my work <3

**Author's Note:**

> hello !!! as you can see, there will be three chapters to this :O they'll be out soon enough, most likely within the week (pls be patient with me)
> 
> thank you for reading !! kudos and comments are my lifeblood, i love seeing what y'all think of my stuff <3
> 
> and as always, everyone stay safe ! take care of your health - physical & mental. love u guys !
> 
> i can be found on tumblr: [https://loveandwarandmagick.tumblr.com/](url)


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